Me & The Minibar
by darkmagic-luvr
Summary: She shouldn't be doing this. She should have stayed in Des Moines. She shouldn't have answered her goddamn phone.


**Me & The Minibar.**  
**Pairing:** Jo Harvelle/Bela Talbot

Jo pulled her truck up to the parking valet, and tried to smile and hand her keys over to the nice looking boy with floppy blonde hair through dry mouth and hands shaking so badly she could have been mistaken for someone looking to get a fix. She wasn't used to this, coming into some fancy city, staying at some fancy hotel. But she had asked and…Jo needed the free towels so, what were a few days?

She was openly stared at as she walked briskly through the lobby, ignoring the shiny vases filled with glass flowers and the picture frames leafed in gold. Her hands were clean, but her finger still smudged the silver button to the elevator. She released a breath when she was alone in the elevator, and a completely different set of nerves set to work on her. She shouldn't be doing this, she should have stayed in Des Moines, and she shouldn't have answered her _goddamn phone._

But she did, and she was here, and Bela's room was at the end of the hall.

"Probably drinking wine and walking around naked," muttered Jo to herself, brushing past an older couple, who stared at her strangely. Jo didn't pay them any attention, just kept her eyes focused on the door at the end of the hallway, 315, the light glinting off the gold plating, casting yellow light against the off-white walls.

It was the longest fifteen seconds of her life, walking down a hallway that gave her more chills than hunting at night ever did. Jo's fingers fumbled in her back pocket, extracting the universal keycard she'd swiped from Bela the last time they'd been together, just Jo had a feeling she let her take it. An open booty call, invitation optional.

Jo pushed the door open, walking into the too big room, with a fireplace in the corner and a hot tub next to the floor length windows. There was a humming noise coming from the plasma bolted to the tv, but other than the white noise it was dead silent, which alone made Jo frown. Bela was usually doing _something._ Listening to music or talking to a client. It was never just silent. Jo shrugged out of her coat, draping it across the chair sitting against the wall as she walked in.

"Bela?" Nothing. Jo called her name again, and still there was no answer. The open door of the minibar caught her eye, tiny empty bottles of liquor peppered the floor, one or two of them were broken. Jo's frown deepened. "Bela?"

Jo practically flings herself around the corner, her heart pounding in her chest, wishing she paid attention to Bela when the woman asked her to drive down to Missouri. In her panic Jo almost missed her, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed in nothing but her underwear and faded lipstick, a much larger glass bottle at her side, more than half gone. The paper label had been torn off the bottle and the pieces were sitting between bare thighs. Bela looked up when Jo walked in, her mouth hanging open slightly, dark circles around her eyes, but she smiled (a little watery, a little broken) and held out her hand, beckoning Jo into her room.

"Joey, you came!" Jo ignored the nickname and walked slowly into Bela's bedroom, her eyes flickering to the walls, making sure she hadn't destroyed anything, that everything was fine. Her Ouija board was sitting on the bed, tarot cards scattered haphazardly across the bed sheet. Jo looked back at Bela, her hand reaching out automatically to catch Bela's.

"Bela, what happened?"

"The spirits said mean things," said Bela, her bottom lip pouting slightly, tugging gently on Jo's hand to get her to sit down. Jo resisted for a second before kneeling down in front of Bela. She picked up the bottle of alcohol and sniffed it, flinching away from the smell of whisky. "Joey, love, did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I'm listening."

"Well look at me, then," Jo tried not to look too exasperated, but filed this moment under reasons why she should never try to get Bela drunk. She was demanding enough as it was when she was sober. Jo looked up from the bottle and at Bela, the amused what-the-hell-have-you-gotten-yourself-into smile she had planned to grace her face crackled and fell. Bela was staring at her too seriously, dark rings around her bloodshot eyes, her hair tossed and knotted, liked she'd run her hands through it too many times. Jo hooked her hands around Bela's knees and pulled her away from the bed until she was practically sitting in her lap. Bela's head fell forward into the crook of Jo's neck.

"What kinds of things?" whispered Jo, leaving one of her hands on Bela's leg, brushing circles against her skin with the pad of her thumb, while her other hand wrapped around the back of her neck.

"Horrible things," Bela whispered back, her voice sounding hoarse and tearful. "They're going to kill us all."

Jo smiled bitterly, pressing her cheek into Bela's hair. "I know."

"You _don't_ know, Jo," whispered Bela, pulling her face away from Jo's neck, pressing her forehead against hers. "Hell is going to come for us both."

"How many times have I told you to stay away from that board, huh?" chided Jo, her voice holding some amusement in it. She turned her head slightly, pressing her mouth against Bela's, her tongue sliding into her open mouth, kissing her until she felt the tears dry under her fingers. Jo pulled away and smiled at her, pushing Bela's hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ears. "How 'bout some sleep?"

Bela nodded, smiling weakly back and standing up. She chuckled darkly. "You must be loving this."

"It has its perks," said Jo softly, her eyes gliding along the crease of Bela's spine. "You want me to stay?"

"If you must."

"Is that a yes?" Bela sighed, dropping cross-legged into the bed, staring up at Jo with bright green eyes.

"I can take care of myself, Joanna," said Bela, her tone slightly accusing and exasperated. Jo pulled her shirt over her head, dropping it to the floor as she made her way around the edge of the bed.

"I'm aware," she replied, even as she popped the button free from her jeans.

"That means I don't need you taking care of me," said Bela, even as her hands joined Jo's in pulling the zipper of her pants down, pushing the material of her jeans over her hips.

"You asked me to come," Bela's hands slide up her thighs, under the black fabric of her panties, pressing a kiss against Jo's exposed ribs, her tongue flicking out to run the length of a scar up to the underside of her breast.

"You always do what I ask of you?"

"Bitch," Bela's eyes gleamed, flickering up to catch Jo's eye, hooking one arm around her lower back and pulling her down into the bed. Bela pinned her arms over her head, her nose brushing alone Jo's jaw, smirking.

"Jerk."


End file.
